Harry Potter and the Alternative Personality
by d27dyer
Summary: What would happen if Harry had a completely different Personality than his canon one? Grey!Slytherin!Harry, Bashing!Dumbledore, Ron, Ginny, Molly, Elementalist!Harry, sporadic updates, possible future crossovers, Harry/OMC (Discontinued. Rewrite in progress)
1. Chapter 1: The before times

**I do not own Harry Potter or any of its subsidiaries. I only own this story and then not even all of it. I repeat, I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

 **Also, anything you recognize I don't own.**

 **Now that that's taken care of, enjoy the show ladies and gents!**

* * *

It was a perfectly normal day at number 4 Privet Drive in Surrey England. I perfectly normal day indeed. The only slightly abnormal thing about today was the tabby cat that sat on a brick wall watching the occupants of the house.

When night arrived, a loud crack was heard as a man dressed in outrageously bright robes approached the house, nodding to the cat as he walked by. The cat leapt off the small brick half-wall and shifted into a woman wearing dark green robes and her hair pulled up into a tight bun high on her head.

A roaring sound could be heard as a motorcycle came down from the clouds, a top it sat a very large man holding a small bundle of cloth in one arm. After a bit of conversing, the bundle was set on the outside of the door on the top step of number 4 Privet Drive, with a letter attached.

Two sharp cracks and a roar of motorcycle engines later and the street is once again empty, save for the not very warmly wrapped baby. The baby with messy black hair and vibrant green eyes.

* * *

 **1988**

* * *

"BOY! GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE AND MAKE US BREAKFAST!" Hollered Vernon Dursley, a man who weighed several hundred pounds and none of it muscle.

"Make it yourself you lazy piece of shit!" Yelled back the boy from inside the cupboard under the stairs. A kid with exquisite green eyes and long black hair that reached down slightly past his shoulders. This boy, one Harry James Potter, was a abnormality from abnormalities. He held himself with confidence despite the constant beatings that came by hand of his relatives. He had ran away from this place several years ago, only to get dragged back several month later. Those few months though, taught Harry everything he needed to live and survive. He was taught how to pickpocket someone, how to lockpick, and how to steal. When he was dragged back by an elderly man with an overly large beard and garish purple robes he started stealing from the general area. Several very successful heists later and he started to gain a name for himself, as Nightmare Griffin, Thief Extrordinaire.

Late last night he had a sale, it went tits up, and he had to run, thanking that incident involving the Dursley Gang, Harry Hunting, and the school roof.

 _Flashback_

 _Running was all he could do now, for if he stopped with this many pigs chasing him, he would surely be quite thoroughly crushed. As he turned a corner to try and escape their notice, only to come up too a dead end. As he swore colorfully under his breath. He heard a voice that spelt instant pain._

" _Where are you freak, we just wanna play freak," the voice of Dudley Dursley singsonged._

' _Shit' thought Harry. He started to frantically search for a way out other than back. As the gang turned the corner, he closed his eyes, awaiting the beating that was going to occur._

" _Where'd the freak go," asked Piers Polkiss, Dudley's right hand._

 _As Harry opened his eyes he saw himself on the school roof, looking over he had to try very hard to keep himself from laughing as the gang that tormented him was searching through dumpsters and behind wood palettes all in search of a small boy who wasn't there._

 _Deciding to try and replicate the feat, he tried to remember everything that had happened between him closing his eyes and him opening them back up. He remembered standing in shadows a feeling of falling backwards and him suddenly being in the shadow of the water tower. Deciding that shadows were the key factor here, he thought of his infinitely dark cupboard and figured that that was as good a place as any to try to go to using this strange method. As he focused on transporting himself to the cupboard, he felt as if e was falling backwards and keeping his eyes open the entire time, saw his vision briefly taken completely over by darkness. As his vision cleared it was still dark, but now he could see the rough shapes of his mattress and of the shelves that held the few toys he owned. Grinning to himself he transported back to the school, first to the roof to check if Dudley's Gang was still there, then to a broom closet next to the class he needed to be in._

 _End Flashback_

This talent proved to be very useful for thieving, for as long as there was darkness he could Fall. Falling is what he had taken to calling this strange ability. Over the years he discovered other things that he could do with the shadows, least of all create an area of darkness in a brightly lit room, although the more light he had to contend with, the more tiring it was. After discovering this affinity for the dark, Harry went out to a local department store and stole a large overcoat that fit perfectly, a black stetson and some loose-fitting clothing. As he took his purchases into the changing room, he swapped them out for the recently acquired clothes and teleported back home where he dropped all the outfits and proceeded to rob the store blind.

* * *

 **1989**

* * *

Seeing something that caught his fancy, he stole an old wireless music player. When he got home, though the shared inhabitants didn't like each other, they left each other alone after trying to hit Harry only for the layer of solid darkness that existed underneath his duster to stop all of their attacks. He found a particular interest in American Country Music, Wild Country to be exact. He learned to play his favorite songs on a beautiful guitar, and his hair was now at mid back length and tied back into a low ponytail with a white ribbon, the only white in the entire outfit.

He ran a very successful, if not particularly well known and definitely highly illegal, business, could get anywhere in the world in an instant, and was generally happy with his routine life. That was all about to change all with a couple of letters.

* * *

A/N: Constructive Criticism appreciated Flames will be used to light my fireplace.


	2. Chapter 2: Letters and Dealings

**I do not own Harry Potter or any of its subsidiaries. I only own this story and then not even all of it. I repeat, I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

 **Also, anything you recognize I don't own.**

 **Now that that's taken care of, enjoy the show ladies and gents!**

* * *

 **1990**

* * *

Deciding to try and find out why his powers over dark work instead of taking the fact that they do for granted, Harry through himself into studies of light and dark, photons and the wave-particle phenomena that occurred within light. He discovered that when he created dark spots, he was deactivating photons. He thought that if he could deactivate photons and could control said deactivated photons, then he could create areas of no photons. After several months of practice, he perfected his ability to create areas of what he dubbed Null-Space.

* * *

 **1991**

* * *

Harry was currently staking out a potential target, using both a nice pair of binoculars and his own Shadow sense, an ability that allowed him to sense any and all shadows around him. All but his head was covered by a Null-Space sphere. When an owl suddenly landed on his head. Only through years of working with worse sorts than a pesky owl did he not jump in surprise. He rolled over to get a better look, dispelling the Null-Space as he did so. He saw that there was a letter addressed to him, written on very old looking parchment in green ink read the following

 _Mr. H. Potter_

 _The Cupboard Under the Stairs_

 _4 Privet Drive_

 _Little Whinging_

 _Surrey_

As he began to open it, a beautiful, regal looking eagle owl came in and dropped another letter flat on his head, he then sat on Harry's shoulder, and waited.

This was addressed to:

 _Nightmare Griffin_

 _On a Job_

 _London_

Seeing has it has his professional name on it, Harry decided to open the most recent letter first, as it may be a business proposal. Although he didn't know of anyone who used owls for letter delivery, or even wrote letters to begin with. After Opening the letter, to say he was shocked would be a severe understatement. The letter read:

 _Dear Mr. Potter_

 _Yes I know who you are Mr. Potter, or do you prefer Griffin, either way, I can assure you that no one else knows your identity, that the perfect southern gentleman is actually the best thief for miles around. I have a few things I would like to say._

 _First off, let me introduce myself. My name is Nicholas Flamel, world famous alchemist. Secondly, happy 11th birthday, quite by happenstance, I am turning eleven hundred today._

 _Now, Onto the meat and potatoes of this letter, I have gotten word from some mutual acquaintances of ours that you are a very excellent thief, even if you don't like that word. You see, I have entrusted something of immeasurable worth to the local bank, only to have it surreptitiously be removed by a former pupil of mine, shortly before an attempt to steal the object was made. This object turns syrup into the essence of life itself, and can create gold so pure when you sift it, there is nothing but gold in the sifter. I believe the object to be located at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. If you're able to acquire the object, a palm-sized red ruby, I would be greatly indebted to you._

 _If you wish to meet face to face, go to the small cottage in the middle of Wales by the spring being fed by the waterfall. You should be my draconic guards' roar before you will see it. Do not fear, simply state that you have a meeting with me and they shall let you past._

 _Happy thieving,_

 _Mr. Nicholas Flamel_

 _P.S. The object is a Philosopher's Stone._

Excited by this new prospect, an item that could make pure gold on a whim, count him in. He decided to meet with this Mr. Flamel tomorrow afternoon, after he slept and finished robbing these people blind. They were very wealthy and had pissed off one of his repeat customers. Therefore they needed to become the poorest family in the country.

Looking back at the other letter, he decided to wait until after he met the man to open it. Considering that both came to him by owl, he assumed that both came from the same person.

The next morning, He took his cut of the loot, not a large amount but by no means a small haul, sold it, and proceeded to search the shadows in the only area of Wales that he knew Natural springs existed, finding what he was looking for, he Fell into the shadows of his small room and reappeared by a sleeping dragon. Immediately sensing a far less dangerous shadow he once again fell and this time reappeared in a luxurious dining room in front of two people, An old man with a gnarled walking stick by his side and an old woman who aged well.

"Ah, Mr. Griffin, how wonderful of you to show, though I must admit, did not expect you to arrive the way you did. Tell me how did you find this place?"

"That's for me to know and you to never find out."

"Of course, of course. Must protect one's secrets no. Now, what did you want to talk to me about? And excuse me for asking but which name shall i call you by?

"In Public or related to business, Griffin. In private you can use my true name. I had received another letter by owl not mere seconds before yours arrived. Was wondering if you sent it?"

"May I see the letter?" Asked the old man who he now knew to be Nicholas Flamel. After being handed the letter he took one glance at the wax seal and handed it back saying, "That is a Hogwarts letter open it and I'll have my illustrious wife take you shopping."

Nodding his acceptance at this proposition, He opened the letter to reveal two pieces of parchment, the first one read,

 _HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_

 _Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,_

 _Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

 _Dear Mr. Potter,_

 _We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

 _Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July._

 _Yours sincerely,_

 _Minerva McGonagall_

 _Deputy Headmistress_

The enclosed list was the second page and it read,

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

 _UNIFORM_

 _First-year students will require:_

 _1\. Three sets of plain work robes_ _(black)_

 _2\. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear_

 _3\. One pair of protective gloves (dragon_ _hide or similar)_

 _4\. One winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings)_

 _Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags._

 _COURSE BOOKS_

 _All students should have a copy of each of the following:_

 _The Standard Book of Spells_ _(Grade 1)_

 _by Miranda Goshawk_

 _A History of Magic_

 _by Bathilda Bagshot_

 _Magical Theory_

 _by Adalbert Waffling_

 _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_

 _by Emeric Switch_

 _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_

 _by Phyllida Spore_

 _Magical Drafts and Potions_

 _by Arsenius Jigger_

 _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_

 _by Newt Scamander_

 _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_

 _by Quentin Trimble_

 _OTHER EQUIPMENT_

 _1 wand_

 _1 cauldron_ _(pewter, standard size 2)_

 _1 set glass or crystal phials_

 _1 telescope_

 _1 set brass scales_

 _Students may also bring, if they desire, an owl_ _OR a cat_ _OR a toad._

 _PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICK._

Keeping careful control over his emotions, he stuck out his hand to Nicholas, "Do we have an accord, I get you your stone, you act an place of any guardian i might have, and don't limit my less than legal businesses?"

"It's a deal," said Nicholas shaking the outstretched hand, both hands glowing blue as a magical contract was created and sealed.

"Now, how about that shopping trip you need?" asked the woman, excitement gleaming in her eyes. Harry began to wonder what the hell he got himself into.

* * *

A/N: Constructive Criticism appreciated. Flames will be used to light my fireplace. I will mainly be using Harry's actual name except when he is either stealing from someone or when he is doing illicit business.


	3. Chapter 3: Conversations

**I do not own Harry Potter or any of its subsidiaries. I only own this story and then not even all of it. I repeat, I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

 **Also, anything you recognize I don't own.**

 **Now that that's taken care of, enjoy the show ladies and gents!**

* * *

"Speech"

" _ **Foreign language**_ "

 _Spells_

' _Thoughts'_

* * *

As Harry and Pernelle, at least that is what she said her name was, entered the Leaky Cauldron, Harry was bombarded with noise from all directions, deafening sounds of laughter and sobbing accompanied by shouts of joy and obvious sounds of great sorrow.

The noises weren't the worst of it though, the worst part was the smells, smells of several year old alcohol mixed with scents of sweat with undertones of vomit from the back alley. There was also a distinct smell that harry couldn't quite place, though it smelled very musky and seemed to be emanating from both bathrooms.

At this time, despite all the adulting that Harry has had to do for most of his admittedly short life, he acted like the overwhelmed eleven-year-old that he was.

"I can sense several large patches of shadows behind a curtain of energy, can I just Fall to there?" asked Harry timidly while tugging on Pernelle's sleeve. Pernelle agreed, not realizing that with this many people and other thing stimulating his senses, that that was the most Harry was going to say for the next several hours.

Seeing the extreme dislike on the young man next to her's face, and not wanting to lose her husband this deal, quickly agreed, "Of course Harry," for that was what he said to call him on this trip, "Do you mind taking me with you?" she asked tentatively. Receiving a nod, she guided him to a secluded corner, where he then Fell into Diagon Alley.

It was the weirdest sensation, Falling. Almost like there was nothing supporting you yet you know very well that something is. As darkness fills your vision you can't help but think if this is the end. If you have fallen to your death. As soon as these thoughts enter your head, they disperse, color returning to your vision, and you realize that you truly have nothing to fear.

After the sensation ended, Pernelle quickly squashed the instinct to fall to her knees and begin to kiss the ground.

"That was quite a remarkable experience Mr. Potter, certainly more enjoyable than apparition or portkeys."

"Thank you ma'am." Harry said curtly, clearly wanting to avoid talking as much as he could. "Where to?"

"First we need to get you some money, your parents should have left you a sizeable trust vault. Then we should get you your robes and trunk, followed by the rest of the items on the list with the wand being last," said Pernelle as she mapped out this shopping excursion.

Harry nodded his consent, all while glancing around taking in everything and everyone around them.

As they entered the pure-white marble building with gold trim, as they approached the buffed bronze doors, guarded by goblins on either side. They came across a beautiful set of silver doors, pictures of phoenix and dragons danced across the borders. Engraved in the center of the doors, stunningly placed and very well written, was a poem.

 _Enter stranger but take heed_

 _Of what awaits the sin of greed,_

 _For those who take, but do not earn,_

 _Must pay most dearly in their turn,_

 _So if you seek beneath our floors_

 _A treasure that was never yours,_

 _Thief, you have been warned, beware_

 _Of finding more than treasure there._

Harry mumbled something under his breath, loud enough that Pernelle realized that he said something, but not loud enough that she could make out the words.

"What was that?" she asked in a commanding tone that only a mother could use.

"I said, bloody useless warning that is. Their as easy to break into as any other bank. The only thing going for them is that it is near impossible to break out and they have pretty creative defensive measures," Harry said, deciding to humor her with an answer.

Not knowing how to respond to that, she said, "Yes, well, try not to anger any of them and don't steal anything."

"You think I steal from here for clients. You're not completely wrong, but Griffin occasionally get hired by the bank to test their defenses. They give me a target vault, usually pretty deep down, and i get to take one item out and keep it as payment." Harry explained, the meek boy replaced by someone who knew his craft inside and out and could talk about it for hours on end.

As they entered, Harry spotted a particular goblin, this one having the bottom part of his right ear bitten off, and a rather nasty scar across his left eye and several on his cheek. Harry strode up to this teller, and said in perfect gobbledygook, " _ **May your enemies drown in their own blood, Account Manager Garnot**_ **.** "

" _ **May your blade snuff out their flame, Mister Lionhead.**_ "

" _ **I have business to do in the Potter Vaults, and I need to pick something up from my other vault as well.**_ "

" _ **Of course Master Potter. Although I would recommend using some of your reputation with us to go see the Director, get an inheritance and ability test done.**_ "

" _ **I will try to make that a thing, my friend.**_ " Seeing Pernelle look between him and the goblin with a very confused expression, he said, " _ **Now enough with the formalities we need to catch up, its been a while. And may we continue this discussion in english so that my poor guide here doesn't feel left out?**_ "

"Of course Harry. Now, why don't I bring you down to the vaults you requested and on the way there we can, as you so eloquently put it, catch up."

* * *

A/N: This seems like a good stopping point. I apologize in advance for the slow release of the ext few chapters, I tend to write 1.5-1.75 chapters at a time, to finish later, but this chapter has taken me so long to write, that I don't have a word of the next chapter written. So until this goddess damn shopping trip is over, updates will be slow.


	4. Chapter 4: Adventures in Gringotts

**I do not own Harry Potter or any of its subsidiaries. I only own this story and then not even all of it. I repeat, I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

 **Also, anything you recognize I don't own.**

 **Now that that's taken care of, enjoy the show ladies and gents!**

* * *

 **A/N: Sorry bout this being late, had an 8-page essay to write that, among other things, took up a not insignificant portion of my time. Along with other projects, but im back.**

 **And to the guest who said that this was "gay fag trash", YOU CAN GO SCREW YOURSELF A GOOD DAY!**

 **Anywhoo, on to the show!**

* * *

As they walked through the exquisite halls of Gringotts, Harry and Garnot where catching up on the happenings in each others lives, switching back and forth between gobbledygook and english. Harry was regaling Garnot of his most recent heists, and Garnot was retelling Duels of Honor he had won. As they all but dragged Pernelle to the infamous Gringotts cart, she couldn't help but be utterly amazed at the life that Harry had built for himself. She expected him to be raised a wizard, with all their inherited prejudice against those like the goblins. Instead she finds him to be respected, maybe even liked, within the Gringotts community.

As they got to the Potter Vaults, Harry took out a gold key and unlocked the giant lock centered on the large granite door with silver hinges. As the door swung open silently, Pernelle could see more money than any one person should rightly have.

"Where did you get all this gold?"

"I invested heavily in some very promising companies that have done nothing but make me rich."

"But still, this much?"

"If you think this is a lot, you should see my other vault?"

And see it she did, for the next vault they visited had a sleeping griffin laying on a pile of swords emblazoned on the front."

"Well don't just stand there, come on in. Although, I wouldn't touch anything if I were you?"

As she walked around the vault, she saw numerous suits of armor and an even greater number of blades. Everything from a 5 inch knife to a full-sized glaive designed to look like fire. In the back wall was yet another vault, and when she asked about it, was told that that was where he stored the money from the jobs he did.

They way he talked about his work made Pernelle realize that this wasn't the Golden Boy everyone thought he was, this was a young man who had seen the worst in life and survived it. No light-side mentality could come from that, only darkness. And if darkness was what was needed to win the war on evil, than darkness it would be.

* * *

A/N: Yep Harry has connections. He won't be super well connected after all he is only eleven, but he will be relatively well connected.

Beta Needed. PM me if interested.


	5. Authors Note (sadly)

heads up. I had a slight change of heart for the future of the story, which has since cause me to rethink and replan the story. so to that end, i am taking this version down and will be doing a rewrite. i cannot tell you when the rewrite will be up and readable, but it will probably have a similar name to this one. I do apologize for this, considering that I personally hate it when these things happen, but it must be done for thr sake of continuity and my sanity.

With All the Love in tbe World,

D27dyer

i am still in need of a beta. Please PM me if you are interested.


	6. Authors Note (Happy this time)

The rewrite has been started, it is up in the form of Harry Potter, Shadow Thief. Happy readings!


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